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Magic. Madness. Heaven. Sin. - Taylor Swift, Blank Space
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She had caught him twice now.

The fair redhead in the corner of the coffee shop with stormy blue eyes that pierced the soul and devoured it whole.

Zack Brady was a respectable guy. The kind of kid everyone's parents wanted and the type of best friend anyone would be grateful to have. Not a bad word was spoken of him, and one would get the sense that he was the cookie cutter son of the sweetest, richest dough around. He was the son of a well-known surgeon and designer, leaving him endless wealth and leisure.

And he chose to run his uncle's coffee shop.

He loved the smell of roasted coffee being grounded into mounds of rich, dark grains and the sound of people humming about through their daily conversations. Mostly, he loved the little freedom it gave him. Since an early age, his parents began preparing him to be a doctor. He wanted to be a doctor when he was five. Now, he wanted to be a musician. He loved music. It spoke to him, spoke for him. He breathed rock and roll, his heart beat like a smooth jazz, and his soul flew on the bittersweet melody of the blues. It was his only outlet of expression and in turn, his everything.

His parents were less than thrilled, but after hearing him perform, they became more open to the idea if he only did it as a hobby. He promised to take on a job to support his musical endeavors and his uncle quickly offered his business as a homestead. He even got a room out of the place, which he preferred over his usually empty mansion. Home was cold and silent. The Red Room was colorful and full of artistic souls searching for their chance at fame and understanding. The walls were painted rustic reds, marigold, deep green, and brown. Warm lights emitted a halo effect as the lowering sun flickered through the windows. Every inch of the building was welcoming. Every inch except the dark corner where burgundy met chocolate brown behind the mysterious beauty that was glaring daggers into his very being.

He gulped, quickly staring at the counter and wiping furiously. He could feel her gaze on him and he tensed under her scrutiny, heat rising to his face. He hadn't intended to stare but she was captivating and despite their usual occupants being young and eccentric, there was something about her that made her seem different from the rest of their world.

She had come in out of nowhere, light auburn locks blowing as the wind settled with the closing door. Her icy features glowed under the golden light, but the black layers she wore and the inky leather mini skirt left him with the idea that she was less than a saint. She stood out from other color clad teens, in her red spaghetti strap tank and loose fitting midnight blouse that draped across porcelain skin. The leather skirt glisten under the light of the room and the zipper down the center front flickered as she moved. Her dark stockings coated her milky thighs and disappeared within black combat boots and despite their appearance, she moved with an unusual silence.

He had waited in anticipation as his line moved forward and despite his restraint and attentiveness to everyone within his line, he found himself completely captivated. She had taken an annoyed tone with him as he blanked out on her, telling him to stop staring at her and to take her order before she turned him into a "vlozsnork", whatever that was. She finished and paid, heading to her current seat, and he mentally slapped himself for getting so worked up over a complete stranger. He tried to pay attention to his work, but when he took one look at the way her crimson locks were tied over her shoulders, and the sugary flesh under her transparent blouse, teasing a blood red and lacy black bra, he nearly burnt himself overfilling a refill of hot joe.

Now, the sun had set, and the crowd was thinning, and the mysterious beauty was making her way to the front counter again. 'Crap. Crap. Holy crap baskets, what is she going to say? What'll she do? Just...act natural! No wait, that never works for anybody! Crap!'

"Looks like you could use a refill, babe. What'd you have?"

Zack jumped at the sound of his co-worker, Jeffrey, who smiled, leaning on his shoulder. The teen was blonde as sunshine and energetic as hell and if there was someone out to get him, to piss him off to the point of no return, it was this asshole. "Jeffy Fresh" as he liked to call himself, was a dramatic, egotistical, manipulative son of a bitch. He was also his cousin and he had no idea how the two shared the same DNA. The beauty in front of them ignored him, crossing her arms and fixing Zack with a hard stare, causing him to flinch. A flicker of anger passed across her gaze, but it was as if she was so used to dealing with arrogant and overly enthusiastic dorks that she went unphased.

"White Chocolate Raspberry." She muttered, digging out her payment from a studded clutch. Zack nodded and set to work, though his mind was too busy thinking of where she could've possibly been keeping the black bag.

"White chocolate, huh? You like sweet things?" Jeffrey sent her a toothy smile.

She stared at the blonde before turning to Zack with a deadpan gaze, "To go."

Zack smiled, relishing in both her disregard for Jeffrey and that she was only speaking to him. Her voice was higher pitched than he expected, and the way she carried each syllable left him on his toes.

"So did it hurt?"

Zack cringed, tossing his head back in exasperation. Anything but that overused pick up line. Somehow, it always worked, and he hated it. Hell, he'd never outright flirt with customers, but even if he had done so without noticing, he lost out to it every time. He didn't get it and he didn't want to. Unlike Jeff, he had a reputation to uphold to maintain his parents' approval, and didn't take on any woman who batted their eyes his way. Besides, pick up lines are stupid. 'Jeff's lines are stupid...Oh God, please don't work on her.'

"Did what hurt?" The girl questioned as she watched him work. Zack paused to listen as he poured whipped cream over the fresh brew, eyeing her with concern, but she merely tilted her head and he realized she hadn't been looking at his face, much less his hands.

"When you fell from heaven, angel."

Her eyes snapped up to his baby blues and she smirked, never missing a beat, "No, but it hurt like a bitch when I crawled out of Hell."

Zack's jaw went slack as Jeffery's eyes widened in shock. They gaped at her and she leaned forward, grinning devilishly as she swiped up a finger-full of whipped topping and sucked the sweet cream of her finger before throwing a bored glance Jeffery's way, "But now that I think about it, it couldn't have been half as painful as it must've been for you to pull that bullshit out of your ass, let alone listen to it."

"W-what?!"

Zack coughed behind his hand, struggling not to laugh as he topped off the raspberry sauce over her whipped cream. His parents would have been appalled. Not only was her choice of language explicit, she enjoyed belittling his cousin. Her respect for Jeff was nil, but that only encouraged Zack's growing smile. Grinning, he capped her latte and set it in front of her, "Jeff, can you grab some more scones from the kitchen?"

"B-but she-!" The offended teen gaped at two before glaring at the woman, "Fine. Whatever. I don't do freaky chicks anyways."

Zack almost rolled his eyes as he bagged a warm, dark chocolate-filled croissant. The ruby locked teen cleared her throat in front of him.

"How much?" Her face was serious once more, looking at him expectantly. She was better than him at hiding her enjoyment at the blonde's embarrassment, but he could see the mischief dancing in her eyes.

"It's on me. Witnessing that was payment enough." Zack grinned, leaning against the counter, holding out the snack.

"What is that?" She eyed him cautiously.

"A chocolate croissant." He took on a worried expression. Had he made the wrong assumption? It was his favorite, but maybe she didn't have the same taste. "Sorry, do you like these?"

"I've never had one before." She stuck out her bottom lip, glaring at the bag, as if scrutinizing it.

"Try it. If you hate it, you can let me know and I'll get you something else next time." Zack's features softened before he allowed his smile to falter, "Sorry my cousin was such a jerk. He was being inappropriate."

"Its whatever. I can handle myself. Is this suppose to be an apology?" She crossed her arms, a manicured ebony nail tapping at her cup.

"Oh! Um... I guess? And...well, that was pretty cool...what you did. You're the first I've seen say something to him. It was a brutal defeat I was lucky to witness." Zack joked nervously, scratching at the back of his head.

She gave him a once over, and he blushed heavily under her gaze. He wasn't use to having anyone check him out so blatantly. It was haunting and cold, but as her tongue grazed her bottom lip and she cocked her head to the side, he got a hint of something more. Curiosity. And that was more than enough to get the poor boy heated. His heart pounded in his chest and he swallowed slowly. As if she had come to some conclusion, her brows furrowed and her eyes widened as she took on a genuinely surprised took the bag from him and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He gave her an appreciative smile, and though he didn't want her to leave, she headed for the door. The bell jingled above her and he waited for it to click shut and bring an end to her reign over him.

"Praxina."

"Excuse me?" Zack looked up from the registrar in confusion.

"My name. You always ask everyone their name, but you've forgotten to ask me twice now. It's Praxina."

His lips parted slightly in surprise. She was right. He would always right his customer's name on their signature red cup and a small message like 'Have a good day!' or 'Come back soon!'. Sometimes he'd even draw pictures on little kids cup...or in some cases, teens like Iris' redheaded friend, who had to have a kitty cat or a T-Rex on her cup. Even more so, she seemed annoyed by the fact that he hadn't asked her, and if he didn't know any better, a bit jealous.

"Oh. Sorry, Praxina. I'm-"

"Zack. I know." She gave him a twisted smile, violet lips curling as a devious glimmer flickered through those enchanting oceanic blues, "See you later."

With that, she disappeared into the darkness of the night outside, taking his very nerve with her. She knew his habits. She knew his name. How many times had she been in here and he not notice?! How could he not notice her? She was like a dark goddess that had descended upon the earth and disturbed the very nature of man. Striking, powerful, sinister. She was intelligent and confident, unshakeable and terrifying. She had an intimidating presence, and his hands shook as he worked. It soon dawned on him that she had scared him senseless with their encounter. And he liked it.

He could feel the blood rushing to his face as he wiped down the front counter. He silently berated himself as he took back control and his breath hitched at the realization that she had promised to see him later.

Shoot... He didn't have her number. How would they even meet again? Wait, what if she was stalking him? He was sure he hadn't seen her before, yet she was a bit familiar. What if she was just playing him?

'Who am I kidding, I'd let her play me like a fiddle any day...'

He nearly choked at his own thoughts. Since when was he like that? He never showed interest in anyone like her before. His type was always natural, brainy, and sweet. He didn't have to worry about what anyone would say. He frowned, letting out a sigh. Of course. No one would judge his actions if he went for the type of girl expected of him. Golden boy Zack Brady could never go for a girl like Praxina. She thrived on negativity and her appearance alone broke at least 5 of his mother's dress code rules for girls he had dated in the past. That skirt definitely didn't reach her finger tips...

He groaned, rubbing at his face before shaking off the mental image crawling its way through his mind. He smiled as a tiny brunette bounded over with her little brother to hand him a couple dollars for juice boxes. He'd just have to occupy his thoughts with work. It was too much of a risk to think of the bewitching redhead right now.

~X~

His shift went by in a blur and soon Zack found himself leaving the shop with a heavy heart. He had to go home at some time, and with it being the weekend tomorrow, his parents would expect him to be there. He loved them dearly and wanted to spend time with them, but he always felt less like himself. Like he wasn't at their level. Sighing he headed out the back door, carrying the last bag of trash with him, setting it down as he locked the door. He turned the knob to ensure its security before reaching for the garbage. His eyes widened when he realized it was gone, and the sound of the dumpster shutting made him jump. He turned to look behind him, clutching his school bag tightly, a stern look on his face as he peered into the empty, pitch black alley.

"Hello..? Whose there?!" He called out, but it was silent. His frown deepened and he turned back to the door. He came to a halt, unsure of how to react to the sight before him.

Praxina watched him with a smirk, her arms and ankles crossed as she stood leaning against the wall, her head tilted upwards in amusement. The orange glow of the back light created a luminescent halo over her, tracing the shiny fabric of her headband, and her hair seemed much more vibrant than before. Her skin glowed and the leather shimmered, and if he hadn't known better, he would have thought she was a figment of his imagination. She looked enchanting in the night, mystique in her own right.

"P-Praxina?!" He tensed, unsure if she was really there.

"Hey."

"W-what are you doing here?" His eyes flickered between her and the distant street. Was she stalking him? Was she here to rob him?

"You said if I didn't like what you gave me I could come get something else, didn't you?" She frowned, pushing off the brick wall and stepping forward.

"Oh! Yeah! Sorry..." Zack blushed at his own stupidity, "Of course! Oh, but the shop, um, we closed about an hour ago."

"Then give me something else." She growled, circling him.

He gulped, "Uh, l-like what?"

A malevolent grin took over her face, "Something sweet."

His eyes went wide and he backed away from her, "Jeff went home already."

"Why would I care about that incompetent fool?" Praxina sneered, her first balling up at her sides.

"That's not what you meant?" Zack scratched at his chin, pondering what she could mean.

"You really are oblivious aren't you?" Praxina gave a half lidded smile, and Zack felt his body tensing at how alluring one expression could be.

"Have you been following me?" Zack's eyes narrowed, and Praxina let out a powerful laugh, hiding behind her hand.

"Of course not. But I've seen you around. I've heard you play. I haven't been following you, I'm far too busy ruining lives, but I've been watching." The smile returned, though it seemed more teasing, twisted even.

"You've been watching me?" He raised an eyebrow and she let out a soft chuckle.

"You've been watching me."

He blushed, "I'm really sorry."

"Such a good boy. Mommy and daddy trained you right, didn't they."

He glared, "Excuse me?"

"Like a toy. They wind you up to perform and leave you sitting on display when you've done your part. What's it like sitting there, dormant, waiting for your next show?"

"Wow, you really did crawl out of Hell..." He muttered.

"There it is." She grinned widely, and at his confused stare she continued, "You're not perfect. Why are you holding yourself back? It's ridiculous."

Zack winced at the accuracy of her assumptions, "That's not your business. I doubt you'd understand. No one ever does."

"High expectations?" Praxina questioned and he nodded. Her eyes softened a bit, "Trust me, it could be worse."

"How could it be any worse?" He rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. It was a statement he'd heard a thousand times and was one of the reasons he never mentioned his home life anymore. He looked to her expectantly and she seemed to consider her answer before changing her mind and grinning, "You could be Jeff."

He laughed, and her face brightened a bit. "Alright, you got me on that one. You're one funny girl, Praxina."

"Hilarious." She murmured, her azure orbs roaming over him as she unclenched her fists.

"Hey, I can't get you anything now, but do you want to come back tomorrow? I'll get you something fresh." He offered, gesturing towards the door. He really needed to get home.

"I'm busy tomorrow. I need something now." She whispered, her voice dripping into a deep hum. His lips parted slightly as her tone flipped completely, and went she sent a sultry smile his way, he shivered in response, a deep crimson dusting his cheeks at the overwhelming control she had gained over him. It was terrifying. Electrifying. The moonlight mixed with the dust and golden glow of the alley as she came closer, and he wasn't sure whether it was a nightmare or a daydream. It was so slow he felt like he couldn't escape, but damn, that leather skirt looked cool to the touch and his skin felt hot as it flushed from the closing proximity. He wasn't sure why he trembled anymore. No, he did, he was just afraid to admit it.

It was anticipation.

Her fingers curled around the collar of his jacket as her lips captured his in a swift kiss, and sent off every circuit in his brain, his book bag hitting the concrete at his grip lessened. He had not expected it to be so fast or gentle, and he knew she was simply drawing him into her, giving him a taste. She was testing him for something more, but he had overstayed his welcome. She kept kissing him, and he told himself not to touch her. She was a lady and he was a gentleman and he had a curfew. It had to be nearly one by now and he still had miles to go. She was pressing into him now, the kisses more heated and his parents would not be proud, oh, they'd disapprove. "What a shame that the respectable, angelic Zack Brady had caught the eye of this dark, brooding teen!", they would say. They would gossip and say she was after his money, but he could undoubtedly promise them she was after his sanity because the way dragged her nails down the nape of his neck was driving him mad and his resolve was all but vanishing.

The way she moved her lips against his was exhilarating, and he whimpered against her, causing her to smile. She bit down on his bottom lip, and he gasped at the pain, allowing her to devour him with a new found intensity. She took it a step further, her hand sliding into his back pocket and gripping his bottom. He gasped and she captured his lips in a smoldering lip lock, and he found his own hands sliding to her hips. Her tongue grazed his lips and he welcomed her immediately. He was pleasantly surprised by the sweetness of her, and he could taste the saltiness of the buttered croissant, the bitterness of the dark chocolate and sugary tang of raspberry. It left him with an insatiable hunger. His head began to spin and he found himself giving into temptation. His hand grazed over her hips to her thighs and good God it felt good. The cool fabric was smooth and he could feel every curve. It was absolutely sinful and he craved more if it, more of her. She was sensitive to his touch and he felt compelled to caress every inch of the milky flesh hidden from him, wishing to hear the light mews she was trying so hard to silence. He swallowed her impassioned moans as he squeezed and clutched at every turn, and his body burned at every gasp and pleasured sigh. He needed her closer. Much closer.

He swept her off her feet, and she wrapped her legs around his waist without hesitation, grinding her hips against him. He released a throaty moan, her names escaping his lips. Her hands clenched handfuls of his caramel locks and he groan as the friction between them began to build, a heavy, coiling building at his pelvis. She pulled back, licking and nipping at the damp flesh of his neck and leaving desperate kisses along his jaw. He was lost to her in that moment, and the unabashed moans he allowed free bounced off the walls and echoed through the alley. He couldn't even worry about who may see them. She was making it hard to think, hard to breathe. She was no angel, but like a succubus, seductive and deadly, tantalizingly evil but dammit she was worth it.

"P-Prax...Praxina..." He rasped, swallowing gulps of air as he tried to center himself. She pulled away to look at him, and her face was just as dazed. Her breathing was uneven and while less vocal, it was attractive in every sense. Her bangs were falling into her face and her lipstick was smeared a bit, most likely on his skin somewhere. He took her in, her pale skin like the satin cream of a pearl and eyes like that lit up like the night sky; how was it possible for someone to so bad yet look so good? Her manicured brows were furrowed in concentration, and as he brought his hands to brush her bangs back to place her eyes fell closed and her long lashes fluttered at the touch as her features soften. He pulled her back to him kissing her feverishly. She melted into him as he held her, and he nuzzled her neck, the sound of her breathing encouraging him to continue. The two almost missed the blinking green bouncing off her butterfly clip in her ponytail, and she let out a string of foreign curses as she paused. Sighing, she pushed off if him and he reluctantly let go of her, stumbling backwards.

In a flash she had a large reddish object in her hands and with a wave of her hand a deep vibrato echoed through the alley. Zack felt his stomach lurch. Another guy in her life she neglected to mention? Great.

"Prax? Whoa, what the hell happened to you?" The voice was laced with amusement and concern. Whoever it was, he had a deep connection with her.

"Never mind that you fool, what do you want?" She hissed, tensing as she looked at the man on the screen of the object.

There was an exasperated sigh at the other end, "Geez, I was just checking in, you usually don't leave the cave that often, and not for this long."

Cave? Was she living in a cave? Like a bat? Somehow it made sense but left him with a desire to shelter her. She was worth more than a cave.

"Ugh, I'm fine, Mephisto! I'll be home soon, butt out. What do you want anyways? You always want something." She rolled her eyes, before scowling at the caller.

"I do not always want something!" The male counterpart seemed thoroughly offended, and he paused for a moment before continuing, "Look, I'm gonna be out for a while, so I was just letting you know. Our place is getting too crowded for my liking anyways."

"Again?" She raised an eyebrow, looking upset.

"Yeah, why? Is there a problem?"

"No, you just leave a lot nowadays." Praxina muttered, and the boy went silent.

"I know, I'm sorry, but work isn't everything, Prax. Have a little fun while you can. I mean, we work our asses off and deal with a lot of bull. We're still young, so live a little. Seriously, you're looking paler than usual, get some sun! You're look like the walking dead." The voice laughed and Praxina growled, yelling out a response he couldn't comprehend other than 'good night'. The object was gone in a flash and she turned to him, taking in his disheveled state.

"Friend of yours?" Zack asked, rubbing at the back of his head, a bit uncomfortable.

"Twin brother. Also, a pain in my ass." She frowned, letting out a huff. He felt more relieved at that, and wondered whether he had seen her brother around too.

"So...you heading home?" Zack questioned, leaning against the wall.

"That depends. Are you?" She tilted her head, reaching up to wipe residual lipstick from his lips. He blushed at the gesture and she smiled slyly.

"Well...were you having fun?" Zack blushed at his own question, and she seemed taken aback by it, her cheeks flushing at least three different shades of red.

She nodded, "I'd ask but you were rather vocal."

He choked on whatever he was planning on replying with, his jaw dropping. He groaned as he face palmed. She was going to be the end if him.

"If you want, I can stay as long as you'd like. We can talk and do whatever it is Earthlings do. I'll even play nice and let you get me more of those chocolate croissants." She purred, running a hand up his back, causing him to tremble. It wasn't long before he was fiddling with the keys to the door. His uncle did say the back room was his to keep.

"Wait I thought you said you didn't like those?" He raised an eyebrow, and she smirked, pulling him inside.

"I lied."

The door slammed shut behind them. He was gonna be in so much trouble. She was trouble. He was respectable, she demanded respect.

He was her unsuspecting victim and he welcomed her despite whatever the talk of the town may be. She talked to him like he was real, she knew him better than people he'd known since grade school after one evening, and engulfed him in the aspect of freedom being found within someone else. She let him indulge and be open. He was allowed to live. She called on him, not his persona. Something about that was refreshing and exciting to him, or maybe it was the way her lips danced across his body when he caved completely.